


The Desired Results

by berlynn_wohl



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Deception, Don't Try This At Home, Drink Spiking, Established Relationship, Forced Orgasm, Kink Meme, M/M, Misguided, Multiple Orgasms, Object Insertion, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:46:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3889963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>These two dumb nerds are having more weird awkward sex. In this particular case, Newt does a dumb nerd thing “for science” and Hermann has to teach him a weird awkward lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Desired Results

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for an ancient prompt on the kinkmeme: http://pacificrimkink.livejournal.com/1613.html?thread=1882445
> 
> Slightly AU in that Newt has an earlier and more thorough knowledge of Hannibal Chau’s business dealing illicit kaiju parts – which, let’s be honest, would he really have been totally clueless about all that stuff before Stacker explained it to him in the movie? Psh.

Hermann could see everything that went on behind him using the reflection in the steel lamp next to his desk. He never gave away this secret technique, because if he did, Newt might become more cautious about the mischief he engaged in right behind Hermann’s back, and Hermann did not want to be left guessing about what kind of trouble Newt was going to get up to next. 

He watched Newt carrying a tray with two mugs, coffee for himself and tea for Hermann. This gallantry was not unheard of, although Newt tended to only bring Hermann tea when he was feeling guilty about something foolish he’d been caught doing. What happened next was alarming, though Hermann knew he should not be surprised at all: Newt took a palm-sized packet from his coat, opened it, and poured the contents into Hermann’s mug. Hermann had a very good idea about what Newt was attempting to dose him with; he had not made a secret of his trip to the slums that day to check out the unlicensed dealers who sold kaiju parts, and Hermann had overheard several conversations in the mess hall about the alleged properties of kaiju bone powder. All rubbish, of course. But dealers continued to extract money from the desperate and gullible, because who would admit to anyone afterwards that they had spent so much money on a product and then been unable to achieve the desired personal results? 

Hermann lowered his head and tried to look unsuspecting as Newt approached with the tray. “Tea for you, Grandpa,” Newt said, but with affection. He had a more snide, contemptuous “grandpa” that he wielded when he was annoyed with Hermann’s stodginess (or as Hermann preferred to think of it, his sheer sensibility). 

“Thank you, darling,” Hermann muttered, pretending to be utterly absorbed in the code he was writing. He watched Newt in the lamp’s reflection again, saw him dawdling, keeping an eye on Hermann. To satisfy him, Hermann picked up the mug, brought it to his mouth and tilted it, appearing to drink. After he’d done this twice, Newt returned to his work on the other side of the lab. Only when he was sure that he was out of Newt’s sight did Hermann pour the contents of the mug directly into the nearest drain, built into the concrete floor. 

He let two hours go by, his behavior entirely typical and uneventful, until Newt couldn’t stand it anymore. With a huff, Newt came over to Hermann’s side of the lab, pretended to look at something in front of his desk, and then said, “Hey, are you feeling okay?” 

“I feel perfectly well,” Hermann replied, “why do you ask?” 

“Nah, it’s just, I thought you looked a little peaky? But maybe it’s just the lights? I don’t know. Wanted to check in.” 

“All systems nominal, I assure you,” Hermann said, and just to rub it in, took one more pretend-sip of tea. 

Newt bit his lip. “Huh. Okay, well that’s good! Obviously!” And he scampered back to his workstation. 

Most nights, whoever decided to turn in first would let it be known, in case the other one wished to join them and make it an amorous evening. More often than not, though, they would retire to their separate rooms. (They’d made a go of properly co-habiting once, with disastrous results, and so they maintained their respective quarters.) This particular evening, Newt’s voice was strained with anxiety as he announced that he was “going to bed now, in case you wanted to…you know…uh, do you?...Oh, okay then. So, good night.” 

Hermann checked the time. He would gift Newt with fifteen more minutes of torment, before the _real_ lesson began. Having reached an acceptable stopping point, Hermann saved his work and rose from his chair. He’d had a lot of time to think about precisely how he would make Newt sorry for his transgression. Once he was in his room, he opened the drawer of the little desk and took something out. It was narrow enough that he could conceal it up inside the sleeve of his jacket. He would have to count on Newt being sufficiently distracted later on, so that he might extract it unnoticed. 

He crept across the lab and arrived silently at Newt’s door. He was going to have to appear to be in quite a state, so he mussed his hair a bit and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt. Then, with a long-suffering sigh to acknowledge how ludicrous it was, he reached down to palm his soft cock through his trousers. The location and circumstances were awkward, and it took several minutes and some intense mental imagery before he could get fully hard, but he needed to be, before he could knock on the door. His last gesture was to reach inside his trousers to take his erection, which was lying flat against his hip, and manipulate it so that it was sticking straight out, straining the fabric. Then he took a deep breath and pounded on the door. 

“Newton! Newton, wake up!” (As if he could possibly have fallen asleep.) “Please, hurry!” 

He heard a scuffling on the other side of the door before Newt managed to fling it open. Newt took one look at Hermann’s untidy hair and clothing, and his eyes went straight down. His expression betrayed delight long before he realized that he ought to be acting more surprised. “What’s wrong?” he said unconvincingly. 

“I don’t know,” Hermann said, putting a little wheeze into his voice. “It happened so suddenly, and I feel very light-headed. I thought perhaps I could get some relief if we could, ah, make love. Immediately, if possible.” 

“Yeah! I mean yes, whatever will help. Of course.” Newt pulled the door open wider, so that Hermann could stagger inside and to the bed. 

“Please, if you could get undressed,” Hermann rasped. 

Newt went for the buttons of his shirt. “Do want me to help you with yours, too?” 

“No, ah, I can, I can handle that,” Hermann said, stalling until Newt had his button-down off and was going for his t-shirt. When he reached back to pull it off over his shoulders, Hermann tugged at the sleeve of his jacket, just barely managing to get it off and onto the floor without the object falling out which he’d concealed inside. He then proceeded as they typically did, though he tried to do so with more panic than usual. “Make room,” he snapped, and Newt got out of the way so Hermann could lie down on the bed, on his back. 

“How’s your leg today?” Newt asked, one of the few courtesies he extended without prompting. 

“It’s alright. Try not to slam too hard on the downstroke, yes?” 

“You got it.” Newt was looking around for the lube. Hermann had a moment of panic, wondering if it was on the floor and Newt would be reaching down there to fish for it. He felt under the pillow and came up with it. 

“Here,” he said to Newt, “here it is.” 

Newt didn’t bother to prepare himself; he just slathered too much lube on Hermann’s cock, and seated himself on it. “Yes, please, hurry Newton, it’s aching so badly,” Hermann begged. But Newt was genuinely fired up, had been for hours, and Hermann hardly needed to continue with his act. Newt was setting the pace now, and it was just as frantic. Hermann helped things along by stroking Newt’s cock; the sooner Newt came, the sooner he could begin his lesson in earnest. 

“Oh God, it’s so hard,” Newt shouted as he rode, “I don’t think it’s ever felt so big and hard.” Hermann rolled his eyes. It was no bigger, harder, or anything else than it had ever been. But he was glad to hear Newt say this, because it meant that his senses were heightened and his judgment was compromised. Hermann would be exploiting this wishful thinking later. 

“Yes, come on,” Hermann groaned, jerking Newt high and tight, just what he liked best as he approached orgasm. He had to take a little extra care, however; it was his habit to more or less ride the wave of Newt’s excitement, and thus to climax shortly after Newt did. Tonight, he had a façade of unrelenting stamina to maintain, and so as Newt hurtled towards orgasm, Hermann squeezed his pelvic floor muscles and bit the inside of his cheek so as not to be swept along. 

Newt realized too late that he was not dealing with the situation properly. Why would you inflict priapism on your partner and then finish up in three minutes yourself? “Oh, um, wait,” he shrieked, “I don’t want to come yet! Wait, don’t make me come, I want this to…shit, _ah!_ God damn it!” 

Newt continued to curse as he shuddered and spilled into Hermann’s hand. When it was more or less over, he said with uncharacteristic coyness, “Ah, that was, I didn’t, uh…did, did you come?” 

“No,” Hermann said, and then lied, “I don’t seem to be anywhere near that point. I’m afraid it’s going to take much more than that to satisfy me tonight.” 

Newt was visibly anxious now, squirming. “Okay, sure, no problem. I can take a little more.” 

“Here, why don’t we change position. Let me get on my good side, and we’ll continue.” 

Newt lifted himself up, squeaking when Hermann’s cock slipped out of him. Hermann would never admit it, but he’d always loved that little squeak. On a good night, that would be just about the last sound Newt would utter for the evening, and then Hermann could have a little peace and quiet before falling asleep. 

In order for Hermann to be able to penetrate Newt while on his “good side,” Newt had to turn and face the wall. At last, the opportunity had come. Hermann reached down and into the sleeve of his coat, and found the object he’d concealed there: a hyper-realistic, veined, firm-but-not-too-firm dildo. 

Newt had purchased it out of spite several months ago, after Hermann had complained that Newt was buying toy after toy in garish colors and ridiculous shapes. When Newt first showed this shockingly realistic item to Hermann, it was accompanied by a lecture: “There, are you happy now? It looks just like yours, the same size and everything. I hope that every time you see it, it reminds you that you’re replaceable any time I feel like it. I’ve got the only useful part of you right here, when you get too uppity with me!” He had never made good on this threat, of course, though they had used the toy together on two occasions. Newt had left it in Hermann’s room the last time, and Hermann had let it remain there; he would need to consume a third more calories daily in order to have the energy to scold Newt for every incident of careless untidiness. But it had all worked out for him, this time. 

Hermann tucked the toy under his side, to let it warm to body temperature, and in the meantime grabbed Newt’s wrist and brought his arm behind him. “Feel it,” he said. “Feel how hard it still is?” Newt’s felt around until his hand closed on Hermann’s cock, and he whimpered. “Now brace yourself,” Hermann ordered, and Newt took his hand away to press it against the wall. 

Propping himself up slightly on his elbow, Hermann scooted closer, so that most of him was touching Newt. Then he picked up the dildo, holding it behind the head, and pushed it, inch by inch, up inside Newt, making the appropriate accompanying groan. He couldn’t risk having his own, actual cock bumping against Newt now, so he reached down with lightning speed to tuck it between his legs. Holding the dildo at its base, he could now thrust it inside as he rocked himself against Newt. 

The first minute or two was nerve-wracking. If Newt sensed that he was being deceived, it would be catastrophic. But all Hermann heard from him were sobs and grunts, as Newt allowed himself to continue to be fucked. Thus, Hermann allowed himself to become delighted; he could keep this up for quite some time. True, it was not exactly an ideal situation for his own erection, which was beginning to soften from neglect. But the frustration was necessary, for he could never fake the stamina required for this bone-powder ruse with his own body, and seeing Newt properly rebuked for his misconduct gave him a lovely bit of _schadenfreude_. 

As the minutes passed, however, the fun began to wane, and Hermann considered how he might put an end to it. After all, was it really so wonderful to be inflicting a penis on Newt that wasn’t even his own? At this point, it wasn’t even a zero-sum situation. But just then, Newt gave a surprised, guttural groan. “Oh God,” he said, “I think I can come again. I think…” 

Hermann watched Newt begin to stroke himself fervently, and realized that if he applied the toy with a bit more care, he might be able to reliably strike Newt’s prostate with it. His use of it was steady, but not gentle; things were getting interesting again. 

But it remained difficult to relish the situation; he could hardly tell if Newt was actually enjoying himself. Hermann wasn’t sure what kind of things he should say or do at that point. Even after all this time – he looked at the clock, and winced; they’d been at it _that_ long – he felt the need to ask the most basic question: “You like what I’m doing?” 

Newt cried helplessly, “Yes!” And he kicked his heels against the mattress as a squeal broke in his throat. His second orgasm was hard-won, and left him trembling and sweat-soaked. “That was amazing,” he breathed. “I didn’t think I would be able to.” But Hermann did not even have a chance to breathe a happy sigh, before Newt continued, “Now I want to see how many more times I can do it.” 

Hermann squeezed his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. So much for punishment. So much for Newt begging Hermann to stop, because it was too much and he was _so_ sorry for what he’d done. 

Of course, right now what would make Newt sorry would be if Hermann were to finish and call it a night. And he was fully capable of doing that. But now he found himself curious as well: could he make Newt climax thrice in a row? Now that the possibility was so near, he couldn’t resist at least making the attempt. He hated to resemble Newt in that way, moved to recklessness by curiosity, but the temptation was too great. 

As Hermann set to resuming, Newt hollered, “More lube, please!” 

“For God’s sake.” Hermann’s mouth was dry from panting. “Hand it to me, then.” 

Newt flailed about until he found where he’d dropped it. Hermann had to hold the dildo with his other hand for a second while he hastily squeezed lube onto it on the out-stroke. 

He continued to work the thing in and out of Newt with perfect, regular rhythm, worried that if they lost their mutual momentum, the whole thing would fizzle out into tedious discomfort. Already, he was finding it difficult to focus on anything but the fatigue in his wrist. Newt’s endless guttural sounds only made Hermann impatient for something, anything, to indicate that the end was near. 

But then it occurred to him: This was certainly going to be the last orgasm that he would try to coax out of Newt. Regardless of what Newt had said in the heat of the moment, they were both raw with the effort, and would not be continuing, so why was he torturing himself and still using the toy? He decided that it was safe to discard it, and to resume in the more traditional way. He slid the thing out, made a noise like it had been an accident that he’d pulled all the way out, and quickly pushed his own cock into Newt’s hole, now red and open from overuse. Dazed and overstimulated, Newt did not seem to have any suspicion that anything peculiar had just taken place. Hermann dropped the toy into his pile of clothes; he absolutely could not neglect to get it fully out of sight before Newt got out of the bed.  
  
Now he finally had a free hand with which to roam Newt’s body, to give him that additional modicum of pleasure, rubbing where the flesh was taut, squeezing where there was a bit of excess. His fingers skidded down Newt’s belly, past where Newt was feverishly jerking off, and then gently cupped his balls, which resulted in a few renewed noises of desire, before he was back to overwrought grunts. 

Hermann’s leg was aching, but there was enough pleasure now to make him not care, and anyway, Newt was doing most of the work, arching and flexing to fuck himself on Hermann’s cock. But it was Newt’s trembling, overheated body, and his continuous noises of effort, that were too much for Hermann to take. “It has to be now,” he groaned. “Please.” 

Newt’s strained reply came: “Okay, almost, okay.” He uttered a final weak cry, barely distinguishable from the moans and whines that had been coming from him all night; but after two hard full-body jerks, he was still, and Hermann knew that he’d finally made it there. Now, at last, he could let the spasming heat of Newt’s body overcome his own. He imagined that Newt had not ejaculated at all that third time, that all of his pathetic thrashing had produced no result; this was his final thought before his muscles tensed and his vision went white. 

Newt reached back to hold Hermann’s hip, his grip sweaty and shaking. Hermann wanted to stay inside for a while longer, but the rush of oxytocin did little to alleviate the pain in his leg and hip, and he slipped from Newt’s grasp and rolled onto his back. Newt flopped in the same basic direction, flinging his arm out, determined to have a little more contact with Hermann. Hermann tilted his head to one side, to watch Newt, who was wide-eyed and open-mouthed but silent. They were both disgustingly flushed and sticky, and it was only then that Hermann really noticed the heavy odor in the room. There was spunk everywhere; their hands, the sheets, their bodies, and the smell of it mixed with their sweat and hung in the air. 

“Hermann,” Newt wheezed, hoarse and exhausted. “I have something to confess.” 

Hermann lifted his eyebrows, the extent of his physical capability at that moment. “Oh, do you?” 

“Yeah.” A long pause followed, before Newt finally said, “I love you.” 

“That’s not a confession.” 

“No, but like,” Newt clenched his fists, as if it frustrated him, “I love you _so much_.” 

Hermann heaved a sigh. He waited for something more (“No, but for real, I have to tell you something…”), but it soon became apparent that Newt had fallen asleep. Ah well, Hermann could hardly be angry him for not revealing his secret, not after what he himself had done. He hung one arm over the bed, and used the sleeve of his discarded jacket to cover up his own clandestine mischief for the time being.


End file.
